A World Unlike Our Own
by Senshi-no-shinjou
Summary: She was just a normal girl, working hard to make an honest living, when she got an unexpected gift on Christmas. Now suddenly, she finds herself at the heart of an Inquisition in a world that shouldn't exist. Can The Inquisitor find her way back to the modern world, or will she give it all for a world that isn't even hers. Find out the line between being a hero or becoming a legend
1. Prologue

[[This is just a stupid idea I was muddling around with after playing some DA:I. I was hoping I could get some feedback about whether or not people would be interested in a story like this. I know I have other fics to work on (though I'm really sad that pairing isn't Canon anymore.) So please review and rate. This is a very rough draft of it, and it'll probably get better (probably) once I get the first chapter out. I'm using this to try and get my self writing again. :3

Also, I'm looking for new RP partners and so if people are interested in that kind of thing PM me or stuff 3]]

::Prologue::

She walked into her small apartment, shedding her coat onto the floor, and stepping on her boots that cost far to much in an effort to get them off. It was Christmas eve, or she thought it was, but the timer from the clock indicated that it was already Christmas. Flipping on the kitchen light she noticed that a couple of bulbs where burnt out, but there was enough illumination that could guide her towards the fridge.

She was exhausted, her short hair sticking in every which direction from a rough day at work. It seemed that everyone needed to get that one last oil change in, or that one last tune up before the shop would close for the holidays. That meant, being the junior mechanic and such, that she was left cleaning up that small Manhattan auto shop late into the night, while the others went home to be with their families.

Grabbing a jug of milk and some prewrapped cookies sent from home, the mechanic lazily made it towards the only piece of furniture she had in her apartment. Her bed. In fact, the bed was so new she didn't even have the time to put sheets on it, which was actually kind of gross, but her exhaustion pushed past the thought.

How many years had it been since she went home for the holidays…in fact…how long had it been since she received a Christmas gift. Flipping on the bedroom light she sat down in an exhausted haste only to hear a slight crunch underneath her. Putting her things down The Mechanic sat up, looking at a small square wrapped in pretty blue wrapping paper.

"Where the hell did this come from?"

Placing the cookies and milk to the side, she inspected each and every side of the package. Suspicious but curious, she undid the wrapping to see that it was nothing more than a simple video game, Dragon Age Inquisition, the one the guys in her shop had been ranting and raving about for weeks. She had played the first two, but she thought due to budget concerns she wouldn't be able to afford the third one.

"Maybe one of the guys got it for me…" She said with a small smile, and went over towards the PS4 and small T.V. that was propped up on some cardboard boxes. Surrounding the site was a couple of empty beer cans, some wrappers from microwave burgers and other oddities. Everytime she looked at it, she was reminded that she should clean up, but she was always too tired from work to do anything about it.

Placing the disc in the system and starting the T.V. she sat on the edge of her bed and forgot completely about the cookies and milk at her side. It didn't take long for it to start up, and soon she was greeted with the vision of templars and mages marching towards a temple a little ways in the distance. She grinned, if the load screen had her this excited, she couldn't wait to see what the rest of the game was like.

She clicked the start button and instead of the normal options that would appear there was only one thing floating.

'Begin'.

No options menu, no way to connect to the online multiplayer, nothing but that one singular word. The Mechanic shrugged it off though as a new way to start the game and without hesitation clicked it. The temple in the distance of the screen exploded, knocking over the templar's and mages and with it, the mechanic.

Sitting up, she no longer felt the soft cushion of her bed underneath her. Instead, it was hard ground and small rocks jabbing at her back. Her hoodie was slightly torn, and her knees where stinging as they scrapped against her skinny jeans. She had no shoes on, just socks, so as she forced herself to stand, the same little rocks where digging into her feet.

"Where…" She muttered her head ringing as she looked around at her surroundings. It wasn't her apartment anymore; in fact, the world she was in didn't even look real. The sky was beneath her and the ground was above. The world looked like it was in a haze of greens, and blues, so many lights and shadows. "Am…I?"

She took a couple of steps forward; when in front of her, giant spiders like from a bad dream appeared, racing towards her. She stood, paralyzed in fear for a few seconds. She tried to convince herself that she was asleep in her bed, but the pain in her back and feet were all to real. So the Mechanic did the only thing she could.

She ran.


	2. Chapter 1

((I am not happy at all with this chapter, I just needed to start it, and I didn't quite know how to…So as always please rate and review, tell me what you think. It's also extremely hard to write about someone not using their name at all as I realized. I commend you Bioware for doing such a thing. *Salutes*))

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now?"

Looking up, The Mechanic tried to sort through her thoughts. Her head felt so muddled and confused, that any ideas where only coming through in singular words.

_**/Heavy…pain…home…/**_

She tried to raise her hands, but found them held down, heavy, unable to move. The panic hitched up into her throat, her lips trembling as she looked at the two women who where surrounding her. They looked like birds of prey, circling around a helpless animal, waiting until they could strike. They were dressed strangely though, like they were heading towards some renaissance faire or one of those weird anime conventions. Yet in that armor they looked comfortable, relaxed like they wore it their whole life. It didn't seem like a costume. It seemed real. Too real.

"Where am I?" The Mechanic asked, crinkling her nose at the smell of damp stone. Her eyes cast towards her surroundings, noticing the thick stone walls, and the hard rock ground. There was a door, made of metal not too far off, and the only lighting that was offered where from torches placed symmetrically throughout the room. The place smelled of sweat, water, stone and cold. The Mechanic shivered, her thin sweat shirt not offering any protection from the chill.

The tall dark haired woman approached her, grabbing her by the collar, and roughly pulling her closer. "Who-who…why…am…I?" They were the only words The Mechanic could utter, her brain failing to grasp the situation.

"You are in Haven, my men found you at the sight of the Conclave. Everyone was dead, hundreds dead, mages, templars, the Divine…everyone except for you." The woman was yelling in her face, even though she was only inches away from her. The Mechanic, now The Prisoner, sat there looking at the ground, trying to put together her words, trying to make some sense out of them.

"What do you mean everyone is dead? What is a Conclave? Where is Haven?" The questions where pouring out of her mouth, her eyes round and fearful. Nothing made sense. The tall woman was speaking with an accent she never heard before. It sounded, European, wait, maybe Middle Eastern. No that wasn't right. It was something else completely, something she never heard before.

The dark haired woman's lips pulled down into a tighter frown. The Interrogator's thoughts where just as jumbled. Was this girl, who was so oddly dressed in front of her, playing dumb? Was she trying to trick her? Yet the fear in her eyes, and the way The Prisoner looked at her surroundings like she never saw them before only offered a truth. A truth she didn't understand. And the inability to understand only leads to fear and judgment.

"What happened to the Most Holy!" The Dark haired woman yelled, this time raising her hand as if she was ready to strike the girl. The Prisoner flinched, closing her eyes, squeezing them shut so tightly in a hope that once she opened them again, this would all be gone.

"Stop it Cassandra!" This time, the other woman who was standing quietly by spoke, "We need her alive..If not for anything but for the mark…"

This time all their eyes where cast down towards The Prisoner's left hand. It sparked, green flickers of energy flying off her skin. The Prisoner grimaced as she watched it rip itself from her skin, and then force its way back it. Every time it felt like someone took razors and was ripping out a part of her soul, and then shoving it back in with nails. The woman named Cassandra, turned her gaze back towards The Prisoner, this time grabbing her hand as the sparks continued to dance.

"Explain this…"

"I can't…"

Cassandra sneered, her long scar on her cheek twitching with the movement of her lips, "What do you mean you can't?"

The prisoner fumbled for words, "I don't what that is…or how it got there. Listen to me! The last thing I remember was it was Christmas! And I was home! And I wanted to play a videogame! And then, there was an explosion, and I was running…and…a woman? She tried to help me…"

"A woman?" This time it was the red haired lady who spoke. The Prisoner quickly nodded her head, hoping that she would at least believe her.

"Leliana, go to the forward camp, I'll take her to the breach…Someone fetch the prisoner some shoes! We don't need her feet falling off because of frostbite!" Cassandra yelled, and walked over towards The Prisoner and yanked her on her feet. A man, who looked like a soldier out of a fairy tale walked over with a pair of thick wool socks and leather boots. He helped The Prisoner put them on, her hands still bound by iron shackles that rubbed the skin on her wrist raw.

When they finally where on, she wondered how much of a spectacle she must look like. Tall leather boots, skin tight yoga pants, her father's company sweatshirt, hair a mess. Nothing matched, and Cassandra grabbed the hood of her sweat shirt and pushed her forward towards the doors. It was the first time she had left that room in hours, and the cool breeze of fresh air was a relief.

A very short lived relief.

Her legs went dead as she looked at the sights around her. There where men, all dressed in armor, women in those dresses you see on medieval shows like Game of Thrones. Weapons of all sorts where just lying around, and some of the men, the soldiers, looked injured. The buildings looked like castles, or something from a picture book. Her eyes shakily searched around her, until they finally looked towards the sky.

It swirled like a hurricane, the eye of it being a green rivulet that seemed to bend the reality around it. It looked as if the sky had been torn apart, and now the heavens themselves where falling to the earth, like stars, crashing towards the ground. The Prisoner's lips trembled, "What is that?"

Cassandra's gaze was locked upon the ripped apart sky as well, "We call it the breach. It's a rift into the world of demons that grows bigger everyday…"

The Prisoner flinched at the word demons, "Demons don't exist…" She said stubbornly. Cassandra looked at her, as if she was mad, and perhaps, The Prisoner started to think, she was.

"Of course they do, what do you think Mages become when they can't close the demons out of their mind!?" She exclaimed and The Prisoner stared at her blankly.

"Mages? Like Magic? There is no such thing!?" She said flatly, but the empty feeling in her stomach was telling her that perhaps she was the wrong one here. Cassandra looked at her, narrow eyes scanning over every inch of the odd girl who stood in front of her.

"Tell me…" Cassandra asked, her eyebrows furrowing together so much that they nearly touched. "Where do you hail from?"

The Prisoner gulped, "New York City…in America…Where am I now?" Her lips where trembling as she spoke.

"Haven…In Fereldan…" Cassandra replied.

_**/Fereldan…Fereldan…wait…the world Dragon Age was in Fereldan…Yeah…Alistair is king there…I made him king during the first game…wait…no…this isn't/**_

The panic that crossed The Prisoners face was evident as she stared at the Breach in the sky. Cassandra almost felt a sense of pity for her, until it expanded, causing the Mark on her hand to grow. As she watched the girl collapse to the ground in pain, she was reminded why she was here, and crouched down to speak to her.

"Every time the breach expands, so does your Mark. And it is killing you." She stated sternly, and the fear on The Prisoner's face intensified.

"K-killing me…I'm going to die?" Her voice had gotten meeker, and quieter.

"Perhaps, the only way we can know for sure is if we close the Breach and stop this…" Cassandra said, helping The Prisoner to her feet.

"If…It'll stop this from killing me…and I can go home…I'll do whatever I can…" The Prisoner said, and that sentiment seemed to comfort the other woman greatly.

She led her towards the gate, warning her that the path towards the forward camp would be dangerous. As they walked, people sneered and yelled at The Prisoner, a sight she was unaccustomed and unsure of. Cassandra assured her that the people already decided that she was guilty, that somehow, she was the cause of all of this. As they walked towards the forward camp, The Prisoner tried to recall as much as she could about the last two games as possible.

The woman Cassandra appeared in the second one, interrogating a dwarf whose name she forgotten. She was called something like a Looker, a Hunter…a Seeker…that was it. She was trying to find the champion of Kirkwall, whom The Prisoner, if she remembered correctly, had helped start the massive mage rebellion. They never went much into what happened after that, except that there was a vote and the circle was dissolved and that Templars abandoned the Chantry.

Cassandra was speaking over her thoughts, telling her things about how they needed to test the mark on something else but The Prisoner's mind was elsewhere. Cassandra noticed this and stopped holding a hand out at the prisoner,that impacted into her chest and knocked her down.

"Are you even listening to me, what I'm trying to tell you might save your life!" Her voice was loud, and judging even though it seemed like she was worried.

"I'm sorry…"The Prisoner said, pushing herself to her feet. "I was distracted by other thoughts…"

"Well we don't have time-" Cassandra was mid word when the bridge underneath them was hit by a stream from the fade, and crumbled below them. The Prisoner did her best to cover her head as she fell down the rocks, groaning in pain as it ripped apart her sweatshirt, and pants. She was sore, her skin bruising and aching from the fall as she tried to get to her feet.

"Stay behind me!" It was the only thing she heard, before she watched Cassandra's feet take off running. With bleary eyes the Prisoner turned to look at the sight, her throat dropping into her stomach as she saw. There, as real as the sun itself stood a demon. It was terrifying, like a creature out of a nightmare and every muscle in her body tightened and froze. She couldn't will herself to move, or even think as she watched the creature slowly approach her.

**/Move/**She told herself but her body wouldn't listen. _**/Come on Move!/ **_Yet she remained rooted to the spot that she knelt. The creature slowly approached her, its head swaying as it moved, its body gliding across the ice of the river beneath her. She closed her eyes, and a voice in her head whispered softly;

[Grab it now]

In instinct, her hand darted out to her side, gripping the hilt of a nearby sword and she shoved it straight through the demon. The creature shrieked and recoiled, and The Prisoner withdrew the sword and impaled the creature over and over again. Its cry was horrifying. Ear shattering. It made her head ache with each of its wails. Still she stabbed it, until finally it collapsed and disappeared in a flurry of green smoke.

Pushing herself to her feet, she gasped for air, wondering what had happened, who was that voice that spoke to her. Her hands gripped the edge of the sword, and she looked down at the mark on her hand that was acting up. When she looked up again, she found herself at the tip of a sword.

"Drop your weapon!"

Immediately the sword fell to her feet, and she threw her hands up in surrender. Cassandra stared down at the small girl, staring horrified at the tip of the sword. She couldn't stop the pity that she felt for the odd girl. Her brown hair was sticking out in every direction, bruises dotted her face, and her clothes where torn and ragged. Fear illuminated a pair of bright green eyes, and her lips trembled as if she was choking back tears.

How could this creature have killed so many people. The Seeker was beginning to doubt and that was something she couldn't afford. Slowly she lowered her sword letting out a sigh, "Grab it." She said, and The Prisoner stared back wide eyed. "I said grab it!" In a hurry the smaller girl scrambled for the sword picking it up, along with the sword hilt that was laying at its side. "I can't protect you, and I can expect you to walk around unarmed. Come on the forward camp is just a little ways further…"

The Prisoner struggled to put the hilt on, it's heavy weight pulling at the stretchy fabric of her yoga pants. By the time she had it on, Cassandra was already a good ways ahead of her, and she had to jog to catch up. Unused to the weight of a sword dangling at her hip, she stumbled a couple of times, losing her footing on the stone steps. The pain that was coursing through her body from the bruises and cuts was overlooked by the hot pain she felt in her hand.

"This is a nightmare…It has to be…" She said as they continued to approach the gate.

_**/Nightmares don't hurt/**_ the reasonable side of herself reminded.

"Yeah well, places from videogames aren't supposed to exist either!" She muttered bitterly.

_**/Touché/**_

They continued to climb, when a sudden panic appeared in Cassandra's voice, "Hurry we have to help them!" And The Seeker took off running ahead of her. With a huff, The Prisoner followed after her, suddenly wishing she didn't skip going to the gym so often.

"Help who!?" She cried, and she was soon answered by a small battle between humans, well mostly humans, and demons appearing. Cassandra dived right into the fray but The Prisoner was too frightened to move. She watched on the side as they expertly maneuvered their swords, their bows, and to her disbelief, magic to attack the enemy. When the last of the demons where gone, the floating crystal that hovered above them exploded, and she felt someone grab her hand.

"Quickly seal it! Before more come through!" A man, no, wait, he wasn't a "man" at all, a elf, held her hand up and soon, that familiar feeling of skin being ripped apart happened as her energy, her soul connected to that of the rift in front of her. She bit her lip, and gritted her teeth, trying not to call out in pain, and soon it disappeared and the pain in her hand lessened just a fraction.

"What…What was that?" she asked, practically yelling. The elf started to explain, that the mark closed the rift, but it was too much for her to process. She was becoming light headed from the day's events, from trying to accept the fact that this was all actually happening. She heard, faintly something about attempting to close the breach, and the thought of it hitched into her throat.

The prisoner started to doubt that she was going to come out of this alive.


	3. Chapter 2

((I didn't get to edit this one as much, because I was at work, but I hope you all enjoy. Please rate and review and all that good stuff. :3 I'm surprised I got this out so fast.))

"_Most Holy Called Out To You!"_

Flashes of light. A blinding pain that ached right down to the teeth. Memories flooding in hot white waves.

"_That means Demons stand ready!"_

Screams. Pain. Silence. Death. That laugh, that accursed laugh, still ringing in the ears. A voice that shook the soul, whispering, no shouting, screaming. What was it saying, were they even words?

"_Find a way to weaken it! Disrupt the Rift!"_

Terror. That's what it was. Fear over something that should be a dream. Wait, it wasn't a dream though. Can Nightmares be real, wait, aren't nightmares always real. It's griping the chest, a heavy weight. Suffocating.

"_No! Solas is in trouble!"_

Can't breathe. Air, oh god, Air.

"_Hurry! Varric, use a potion!"_

Can't breathe…

"_Seal the breach!"_

Can't…

"_Hurry"_

Breathe.

/-\\\

The Prisoner sat up gasping for air. Her breath was ragged as if she was being held underwater, and her eyes hazy as she gripped her chest. She was clawing at it, like she was trying to rip something off. Slowly, she steadied her breaths, the irratic beating of her heart drifting into a soft flutter.

_**Crash **_

"You're Awake!"

The Prisoner jumped at the sound, and looked up at the owner of the voice. Scared wide eyes gazing back into scared wide eyes. A nervous elven woman, or at least that was what she supposed she was, from the pointed ears and all, fiddled nervously with her hands. Her words fumbled over each other as she desperately tried to apologize.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you-"

Throwing her hands up, "Hey calm down, no harm done! I'm awake!" The prisoner said, trying her best to calm the frantic woman. The elf didn't calm down though, and quickly dropped to her knees, pressing her forehead to the ground, afraid to meet her eyes again.

"I'm but a humble servent, I but ask for your forgiveness and blessing!" With that the elf quickly rose to her feet, wringing her hands in each other once again. "Lady Cassandra wanted to know the moment you where awake! She's in the chantry! Waiting!"

The Prisoner tried to calm her down, by standing up, yet all that seemed to do was startle the girl more. "At once she said!" And with that she ran quickly out the door. The Prisoner stood there, startled, and unsure even what a Chantry looked like.

She went to place her hands into her sweatshirt pockets, and was shocked when her hands found no pockets. It was the first time she actually looked at what she was wearing. A shirt, of shiny silvery white. Wait, do you call this a shirt or a tunic. And pants that where the same. Hold on where these buttons made of gold. Is that gold on the boots.

"WHO THE FUCK CHANGED ME!" She cried finally, when she was done doing a self inspection. A blush crept to her face as she walked around the small cottage she was in. There was a log by her night stand, with some scribbling that she couldn't read for it was in a language she didn't recognize. With a heavy sigh she placed it back on the night stand and went towards the door.

She opened it, being temporarily blinded by the bright light of the day. When her eyes refocused she felt a chill run down her skin as she stared at a hundred pair of eyes standing and looking at her. As she stepped out, they parted ways, as if she was splitting an ocean in two, all to clear a path for her. Soldier's crossed their arms across their chest, their eyes focused forward in a militaristic fashion she hadn't seen since her father.

She took a few more steps, looking over her shoulder, at every face she could. Her head was hung shyly as she walked, people all trying to catch a peak of her. Kids poked their heads out from between legs, others stood on their toes.

"That's her!"

"I heard she sealed the breach! Stopped it from getting any bigger!"

"I heard she was supposed to stop it all together."

"That's the Herald of Andraste."

Her foots steps quicken, until they turned into a run. People lining the whole path up towards the chantry, all gazing in awe at the strange girl. Walking towards what looked like a giant church, she pushed the large wooden doors open, trying to ignore the whispers of those around her. Inside the Chantry, it was mostly empty, and for that she was thankful. Silence was a blessed relief.

She took a few more steps, looking around for the tall dark haired woman named Cassandra. There was no sign of anyone though, and she started to grow nervous. She opened a few doors, poking her head in, calling out for her, but received no answer. It was only when she reached the back of the Chantry that she heard the familiar voice engaged in an argument.

She pushed the door open, and walked in, "I'm not interrupting am I?"

The Seeker looked up from the table she was gazing at, and the man she met earlier on the bridge, Chancellor Roderick, sneered. "I want this woman arrested and brought to Val Royeaux for execution immediately!" His angry shout caused the girl to freeze.

"Disregard that!" Cassandra ordered, and with a motion of her hand, sent the two armed guards standing behind the Prisoner away.

"What do you think you are doing Seeker?" He hissed, and Cassandra crossed her arms.

"She saved us Chancellor, and she did everything she could to stop the breach, she's earned our trust!" She said, and The Prisoner nodded her head.

"I did my best really, I nearly died doing it to…I think…" She said, her voice cracking slightly.

"And yet you live, how convenient." The Chancellor didn't even attempt to hide the venom in his words and The Prisoner held her head low.

"I tried." She said determined, gripping her own hand, much like the elven girl had done before. Cassandra stopped the argument, cutting off the Chancellor as talk turned to finding out who did it. Though, as selfish as it seemed, The Prisoner didn't have much of a want to find out, all she wanted to do was go home. Her job, her family, her friends (the few she did have), where all probably worried sick about her being gone. She shuttered slightly at the thought of her father rousing the National Guard to look for her.

Though it wasn't like it was completely uncommon for young women to go missing in New York.

Cassandra had successfully chased the chancellor out, throwing down a heavy book onto the table. The Prisoner was only half paying attention to anything she said, something about an Inquisition being reborn. "Look!" She said, interrupting the Seeker mid sentence. "I know, that everything looks like it's going to shit and all right now, but really…I just want to go home! My family probably misses me, and I have a job and-"

"Look…" Leliana, who was standing in the shadows, finally spoke. The way she did that made the Prisoner uncomfortable. "You are the only hope we have to find out who did this and seal the breach. That mark on your hand, is a gift from the Maker. He brought you to us."

A snort escaped from The Prisoner. "The Maker. He doesn't exist, that's crazy talk."

"Not long ago you thought demons didn't exist either…you where proven wrong in that…" Cassandra said and a heat rushed to The Prisoner's cheeks.

"Okay, whatever that is beside the point. I'm not some fucking chosen one and all that shit, I just am a normal mechanic, who wants to get home, I'm supposed to meet my family for Christmas!" She said, and Lelilana cocked her head to the side.

"What is this Christmas you speak of?" She asked and The Prisoner opened her mouth to explain, but shook her head. What used would it be to explain a holiday celebrating the birth of Christ in a world that didn't even know of it.

"I just want to go home."

Cassandra approached the young woman, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Do you hear what the people are calling you. They say that you are the Herald of Andraste. They saw you seal the breach, with your mark. You are their light when it is dark. If that does not mean you where sent by the Maker I do not know…"

The Prisoner bit her lip, hard enough that her teeth left marks in her lips. "This…Inquisition…What am I to do…"

/-\\

It had been days since Cassandra and Lelianna decided to start this Inquisition of theres, and The Herald was starting to get used to the world. Of course there was no indoor heating, or plumbing, nor where there any showers or things like that. Also she was pretty sure she would give her left hear for a McDouble right now, but all and all she was surprised by how much she was adapting.

Almost as surprised as Cassandra was when they learned that she had no idea how to even hold a sword. Cassandra insisted that they practice together, so she can learn to defend herself, but she was horrible at it. The Seeker insisted that when the Commander and Ambassador arrived she would start taking lessons from both of them. One in combat, the other in the history and politics of Thedas.

The Seeker and Leliana didn't quite believe the whole 'I'm from a different world, and this place is just a videogame that shouldn't exist' excuse. They think she hit her head too hard, and currently Leliana was doing her best to investigate just where in Thedas The Herald was from. It was almost amusing knowing that her efforts would yield nothing.

But here, sitting at the back of the Chantry, was the first moment of peace The Herald had since she arrived here. Her bruises where healing up, and the mark was only a dull pain that she could bare most of the time. Cassandra said it would be about a week before the Commander and Ambassador arrived, so she was taking in as much free time as possible.

She laid her head down on the snow, it's cool touch almost caressing her hot skin. When she was back in New York, she used to love the feeling of cold tools in the morning, but now the closest thing she had was the snow and a blade. It wasn't the same. She sucked in a deep breath, willing the tears away from the back of her eyes. This was no time to cry, to many things happening, to many things going to happen.

[How you holding up kid?]

"Great…" She muttered, throwing her arm over her face. "I'm hearing voices in my head now. I am so totally crazy…"

[Well perhaps…but not because of this…]

She removed her arm, and looked around, to see if there was some person or spirit hovering over her or something.

She saw nothing.

[Look over here to your right.]

She did, but still didn't see anyone.

[Lower]

She cast her eyes down a bit.

[Lower than that]

When she lowered her eyes all the way down to the ground, the only thing she was a pure white rabbit, staring back at her. It's nose twitched slightly, and The Herald let out a scoff.

"That's a Rabbit."

[I'm a Jackalope, see the horns]

"I'm talking to a Rabbit."

[Jackalope]

"Details."

[Well, you are quite rude to the spirit that kept you alive during your last encounter with some demons…] The Jackalope hopped over towards her and onto her chest, it's little nose still wiggling. She could more clearly see now that on the back of the rabbit it had a pattern that looked like a burst of sun, similar to that of the chantry.

With a sigh, The Herald sat up to look at the jackalope more clearly, "You where the voice I heard when I was in combat, the one telling me what to do."

It's nose twitched again, [That's correct. I'm a spirit of Battle, and I was sent from the fade to help you out. It just turned out that I can't communicate with you unless I have a mortal vessel available…and it just so happens that the closest thing near you at the time was-]

"That."

[Yes. But this form allows me to stay close to you, and help you when you require it.]

The Herald ran a hand through her hair, letting out a sigh, "Okay then…what should I call you?"

[Spirits of the Fade Don't have names, like mortals do.]

The Herald tapped her chin for a few seconds.

"How about Mr. Bunners."

[No.]

"Bunculies"

[No]

"Bundraste"

[No!]

"Mr. Bunny-Buns."

[You've got to be kidding me…]

The Herald sigh looked at the small rabbit, and petting it in between its antlers, "Well, Glitch then. Because it's obvious that's what you are…"


	4. Chapter 3

**((A/N: So here is yet another Chapter, that I cranked out at work. Sorry if it's not that good. I threw out my back at work, and pulled some muscles. It hurts a lot, so I'm doped up on too many pain meds, Icy-Hot and an uncomfortable back brace, so my mind isn't really in the game at the moment…other than that I hope you guys enjoy this Chapter! And HAPPY NEW YEAR!))**

When The Herald walked into the War Room with Glitch in her arms, it raised more than one pair of eyebrows. Cassandra's mouth literally fell open, and Leliana had to cover her smirk, as The Herald placed the small Jackalope onto the war table. He twitched his nose a few times and hoped towards a figurine that was sitting besides the map that was spread out on the table.

After an awkward pause, Cassandra finally asked "Your Worship…Why is there a rabbit on the War Table?"

[Im a Jackalope!]

"Actually," The Herald said, pushing her hair out of her face, "He's a Jackalope."

"I…Don't understand…" The Seeker said. The tall woman's eyebrows where relaxed for the first time since The Herald met her, as she stared at the small creature that was now nibbling at the corner of the map.

"Well, it's quite simple really, see Jackalope's have horns while Rabbits don't-"

"No, I don't understand why it's here…with you…why you are carrying it around…" The Seeker scratched her head, and The Herald shrugged in response, not bothering to explain any further. In fact, she wasn't quite sure how she would explain it. They already thought she was a little crazy after the whole different world excuse, the last thing she needed to do was try and explain to them that a spirit from the fade inhabited the body of a Jackalope to teach her how to fight.

Because, like, you know, that's completely normal.

"So I've heard the Commander and Ambassador has arrived, do I get to meet them?" It was an obvious attempt to change the subject, and The Herald was doing her best to avoid eye contact with anyone in the room. She placed her hands onto the table leaning over to glance at the map. Glitch hopped over towards her, and wormed his way in between her arms.

Leliana removed her hand from her mouth, any trace of a smile nonexistent as she folded her hands behind her back, "That is correct, Commander Cullen has returned from cleaning up what happened on the Frostback Mountains and our Ambassador Josephine Montilyet arrived from Antiva yesterday. She spent the majority of the day arranging her office in the Chantry." She looked at the Herald who was still studying the map intently, "Would you like for me to go fetch them?"

"Yes…please…the sooner we close the Breach…the better…" She stood up and watched Leliana leave the room, leaving only the Seeker and The Herald together.

"Your Worship-" The Herald held up a hand, stopping Cassandra from speaking.

"Could you stop calling me that, please, it weirds me out…a lot…"The Herald had an awkward, pleading smile on her face, but Cassandra shook her head.

"I'm afraid not…we've been over this before. You are the beacon of hope for people here…and we are not going to ruin that image." Cassandra said, walking over with the large book she had shown the Chancellor the other day. "This is the writ from the Divine, I was hoping you could start reading it before the Advisors showed up…"

The Herald frowned, looking at the large book now sitting in front of her. She flipped it open, her eyes intense as she flipped through the pages, her fingers running over the rough paper. It felt old, older than anything she ever held before. Five minutes of silence passed in the War Room, the Seeker staring at her intensely until The Herald finally said,

"Yeah I can't read any of this."

Cassandra's jaw dropped for the second time that day, "What do you mean you can't read any of it?!"

Scratching the back of her head The Herald let out a heavy sigh, "I don't understand the language…where I'm from…we both speak the same…but our writing is completely different. We don't even have the same characters it looks like…"

Cassandra groaned, "Great our Herald is illiterate!"

A scowl crossed across the shorter girls face, and a heat flushed to her cheeks. It wasn't her fault; she wasn't even from this world, let alone this land. Crossing her arms she glared at Cassandra, "Look here! I can read! I just can read this shit! I don't need you insulting me! I am doing the best I can!"

[Calm down, getting angry will only make things worse]

She turned her head towards Glitch and hissed at him, "You calm down!"

"Did you just talk to that Rabbit?"

The Herald snapped her head back towards the Seeker, "NO!"

"Um…we aren't interrupting are we?"

Turning on her heel, The Herald looked at the door to see Leliana standing there accompanied by two other people. They all looked awkward and uncomfortable for walking in on such a scene.

One of them was a girl just slightly taller than she was, with darker skin, and black hair that was stylishly tied up. Her clothes were like something in a play from Shakespeare, and her smile was blindingly bright, even it was slightly terrified. She was pretty though, and she held herself like she was a queen. Chin tilted slightly up, eyes looking gently down.

The other companion, a man, who stood a full foot taller than The Herald, whose dirty blonde hair, was combed back neatly. His face had a too serious tone about at it, and his lips looked like they had never broke into a full smile before. Despite all this though, the small scar that graced the tip of his lip, and dark, intense eyes still made The Heralds stomach all squeamish, like someone was flipping it like a pancake.

That was never a good sign.

"Uh…no…you're not…sorry about that…Cassandra and I…where discussing some things…Hi I'm-"

"The Herald!" Josephine said, her smile only intensifying. She wore it so easily, like it took no effort at all. A 100 watt beam straight from her face. The Herald felt slightly jealous at that. "You…are not at all…what I was expecting…tell me…what your age…is"

Trying to hide how pleasantly surprised she was by someone finally being interested in her, (yet slightly insulted by how she wasn't what she expected) The Herald answered, "I'm 23."

"So young!"

"Not really…"

Josephine quickly declared that they were being carried away, and went to introduce herself. After everyone gave their name, Cassandra called them over, so that they may look at the Writ that The Herald had such trouble with earlier. When they walked over to it, they where all surprised to see Glitch looking at the book intently, as if it was reading it.

"Is that a rabbit?" Cullen asked.

[JACKALOPE!]

"It's actually a Jackalope…"

Josephine bit her lip, tilting her head to the side in such a feminine fashion that The Herald felt another pang of jealousy. "I do not understand…"

"Well you see Jackalope's have horns and stuff-" Cassandra cut the Herald off before she could continue, "And I'll just shut up now…"

Cassandra looked at her briefly, and turned towards the others, starting to discuss just what the Inquisition was. The Herald paid only half attention though. She couldn't care less about the politics and wars that where going on in Thedas at the moment. Her stomach felt like it was constantly turning. Homesickness, worry, pain and stupid tall good looking men suddenly walking into her life. All of it was enough to make her head feel like scrambled eggs. Cullen and Jospehine sat there, giving their inputs, all of them discussing about who to turn to.

Mages or Templars.

_**I wonder if Mom and Dad are okay…**_ She thought, pinching the bridge of her nose so tight she could of left marks.

Leliana then started to make a case for the Mages, stating something about how they deserved to be free. Cullen started to argue that they couldn't be trusted. Josephine said that nothing could be done at the moment because they didn't have enough influence or allies.

_**If I close this Breach for them…will they even let me go home?**_ The familiar feeling of tears pressing at the back of her eyes appeared.

[Breathe Kid.]

The Herald looked down at the Jackalope that was now sitting in front of her, gazing up. She let out a laugh. How strange was it that the closest thing she had to a friend here was a spirit inhabiting a Jackalope's body. It was comical.

"So the best person here to secure our Allies of course would be our very own Herald of Andraste." Josephine finally said, and The Herald snapped her head up from her staring contest with Glitch.

"Say what?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowing together.

"You are the symbol of our Inquisition. While the Chantry may fear you and be selling lies about how dangerous you are, you are a beacon of hope for many people. If you go out there and help them, that will only seal that image. So therefore, you are the best person to do this." She explained, and The Herald slammed her hands onto the table.

"I thought you just needed me to close the Breach!" She yelled, and the faces of the Advisors dropped. "Now you want me to be…a diplomat…you want me to run around this land I don't even know and just…work to make us popular?" The whole concept made her head spin. Flabbergasted. Angry.

"None of us have the pull that you do…" Josephine's voice was soft, soothing almost, as she explained.

"You kidnapped me, tied me up in a prison! Dragged me through a demon infested valley when I didn't even know how to protect myself! I nearly killed myself trying to seal that breach for the first time! I've been training, and studying constantly since I've gotten here! And now…now you want to put the responsibility of recruiting a legion of followers on me!" Her voice had cracked at the end. She couldn't handle this. These choices seemed so easy when it was just a video game. When it wasn't real. Now it seemed that the burden was crushing her.

Cassandra looked at her, the same stubbornness in her eyes as the girl's. "You are the Herald-"

"I'm not fucking Jesus!" She screamed and the room went quite for a second, until Cullen asked;

"Who is Jesus?"

Pulling her hair back, The Herald grabbed Glitch and hurried out of the War Room. She was angry, and frustrated. Overwhelmed and embarrassed. She had acted like a child back there, and she knew it. It wasn't what she was supposed to do. A hero…a hero like in the games would have accepted her fate and did what she could to help. She would be selfless, willing to give her life for her country and world.

But this wasn't her world.

The Herald ran as fast as she could through the small town of Haven. Ignoring all the people who tried to get her attention. Her feet hurt in the leather boots, and the wool from her tunic itched. She was cold, but sweat dripped from her forehead as she ran right out the main gate of the village. Part of her knew that she should turn around and apologized to Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine and Cullen. The reasonable part of her knew that. The emotional, irrational part of her kept her feet running until she ran into the edge of a lake and couldn't go any further.

[Are you okay Kid?] She looked at Glitch, who had snuggled into her arms.

"You're a Battle Spirit, you shouldn't be this cuddly…" She said softly, petting it between its horns. "I'll be fine…I'll go back and apologize in a bit…" She whispered.

"You okay Kid?"

The Herald looked slightly confused, feeling like she had just answered this question, but it wasn't Glitch who asked. Turning around she saw the short dwarven man she met on the mountain a few days earlier. Also the best friend of her Champion character in the second game. Varric.

"Yeah I'm fine…" She lied, turning back towards the lake and focusing most of her attention on Glitch.

The dwarf came over to her side and sat down next to her, letting out a heavy sigh, "Cassandra is raving mad right now, but she'll calm down…she just doesn't see it how you do…but she will…eventually…just give them some time…"

The Herald finally looked over at Varric, her eyes misty despite her best attempts to keep them dry. "I…I've never done something like this before…I was just a normal girl back home…none of this stuff…it's all a part of fairytales for me…even…people like you…" She said, her cheeks turning red.

Varric just laughed, "I get it. Everyone always talks about how great of heroes they would have been in they were at Ostagar, or if they where there in Kirkwall during the mage rebellion. It's easy to talk, and hard to do. They don't realize that in the span of one day you went from being somewhere completely different than here, to the most wanted criminal in Thedas, to joining an army of the faithful…"

With a heavy sigh, she scratched right behind Glitch's ear, his bushy tale twitching in appreciation. "I know…and in reality…all I want to do is run away and go home…but I have to do this don't I…" Her gaze drifted towards the hand that was scratching Glitch. "I'm the only one who can…"

Varric looked at her, "Heroes…are often born of circumstance. Wrong place, wrong time, right person kind of thing…You…you are something entirely different. As sappy as this sounds, you have the mark, you were meant to save us…you're a miracle…"

The Herald took a deep breath, letting it out through her nose. She shut her eyes, trying to push out the hundreds of thoughts that where flying through her mind at once. "My mom used to say something about miracles Varric…"

"Oh?"

"Yeah." She stood up, whipping her eyes and gritting teeth. "You don't believe in miracles. You depend on them."


	5. Chapter 4

**[A/N:: What, what, another chapter. I don't really have much to add and all, but just that you I hope you review and enjoy]]**

"So I'm guessing before we go ahead and stop this attempted assassination on this Mother Giselle, grabbing a latte is totally out of the question?"

The four people who were gathered with her, crouched in underbrush that overlooked the Redcliffe Crossroads, turned to look at her. It seems that they all still hadn't quite gotten used to the ridiculous and unusual things the Herald would say, or the perplexed expression on her face like they where the crazy ones. After a few moments on what was becoming a routine awkward silence, the Herald coughed nervously;

"Uh yeah…that was supposed to be a joke…" She said muttering a few things to herself, as she tried to adjust her stance. She was making a mental note to start squatting more, but her thighs where burning.

"Well then, we spotted a camp in the Witchwoods of the Hinterlands, our Intel suggests that the assassin may be camping out in a cave out there. The only problem is that part of the land is a battlefield between Mages and Templars, literally smack dab in the middle of their encampments…" The woman who spoke had introduced herself as Scout Harding earlier.

Upon their first meeting The Herald had stared at her for a solid five minutes, before stating, "Jesus H. Christ! You look like you stopped growing when you where four!" Then proceeded to use her hand to measure the scout's height against her, stating over and over again that, "You don't even come up to my belly button! Guys! Belly Button!"

The Herald then was quickly informed that what she was doing was racist. In which she then apologized even quicker.

"So the plan is to go and take out the Assassin before they even make a move…" Varric said, loading 'Bianca' onto his back, "Sounds easy enough. What could go wrong?"

"A lot." Cassandra replied, and The Herald had begun to gather that the Seeker was completely oblivious to the concept of sarcasm. "We'll have to fight our way through a sea of Templars and Mages to get to them, and The Herald has only learned the basics of fighting."

Crawling out of the underbrush, The Herald stood to her full height, groaning as she tried to stretch her back out. She was unaccustomed to wearing armor, even if it was light armor, and the rigidness of the material was killing her. Not to mention the tunic she wore underneath was still unbelievable itchy, and the chain mail would on occasion cut her. Since the armor was made for her, the smell of fresh leather was still a bit overwhelming at times, and it wasn't as broken in as the others were.

And don't even start on trying to go to the bathroom.

"Right, sounds like a plan." The Herald said, readjusting the sword on her belt for what felt like the umpteenth time. "We'll go and actually meet the woman as planned after we take care of this issue…"

Solas who remained silent for most of the conversation finally spoke, "It seems you are becoming quite confident in your decisions. A far cry from when we first met…"

The Herald shrugged, "Fake it till you make it right?" Varric let out a snort while Cassandra rolled her eyes. With the consensus that this was their next course of action, they group took off into The Hinterlands. For the most part they walked in silence, which for the Herald was a bit unnerving.

"So you know…I kind of expected there to be more singing while we walked…" She said, and Cassandra turned to her aghast.

"Now what in the world would give you _that_ idea?" She asked, and The Herald shrugged and she looked down at Varric.

"Don't dwarves sing all the time?" She asked, "You know like '_Far over, misty mountains cold'_…wait…am I confusing this with Lord of the Rings?" She scratched her head, and mumbled a bit to herself, a habit The Herald was quickly developing.

"Do you really not have dwarves or elves at all where you are from?" Solas asked, and The Herald nodded her head, stumbling slightly on the uneven footing of the road.

"Yeah, that's right…no magic either…or qunari…or dragons, or any of these creatures really…this is all just myth from our past…" She said, thinking that was the best way to explain it. "Where I'm from…we tend to be more…science and technology oriented."

"No magic…" Solas said, his face looking distant as he pondered this concept, "So no one in your culture can access the fade…that seems like a sad existence…"

The Herald shrugged, huffing again as she looked around nervously for any potential ambush. In the game, enemies always just seemed to appear out of nowhere on the woods. "Well…maybe…you can't miss what you don't have…but we've got some pretty impressive things ourselves…both good and bad…"

"And you seem to be taking this all in pretty good stride, considering," Varric added and The Herald let out a nervous laugh.

"I won't lie…I'm in shock…I'm just blindly accepting that this is all happening, I'm afraid that if I think about this too much…" Her voice trailed off.

"You'd go crazy. Which; is perfectly understandable…" The dwarf said, and The Herald gave him a bitter smile.

"Still," Solas said, adjusting his grip on his staff, "You seem oddly…aware…of everything that is happening in Thedas…"

The Herald bit her lip, and weighed in her mind just how much information she should divulge. She WAS aware of almost everything that happened in Thedas. In fact, she was starting to think she knew too much. Between Varric's past with his brother, and what happened with Hawke at Kirkwall, to Cullen being trapped in the Circle during the first game, to almost everything about Leliana's past that she seemed intent on keeping hidden. The Herald was more than knowledgeable about secrets that weren't supposed to be known…ever.

"I know the fantasy and myth of my culture; I'm going off of that…" She lied. Cassandra had already discredited her explanation about it being a video game as exhaustion. She wasn't about to be labeled as crazy, or worse, and all seeing prophet from Andraste.

Being the Herald turned out to be more than enough for her.

"You could try and tell us more about your homeland," Solas suggested, "I've traveled all throughout the fade, to many different times and lands, perhaps I have stumbled upon it?"

The Herald mumbled under her breath again, and was about to respond with Cassandra held a hand up.

"Quite…I can hear fighting…"

The sound of her own heart quickly filled The Heralds ears. Her hands starting to sweat even more in her leather gloves, and her legs where shaking slightly as she walked. The clash of metal against metal, the sound of flames and lighting ripping across the air, and the shattering of ice became louder and louder. Each step up the small hill, her grip on the sword next to her tightened, till her knuckles hurt. She didn't even notice though.

She watched Cassandra reach the top of the hill, stopping and looking. Her eyes scanning the horizon as if she was analyzing a map, calm and serious. Not a hint of doubt. Not a hint of fear. Varric followed, then Solas. Leaving the Herald to make that final accent up the hill alone. When she reached the top, it was hard to breath, and as she gazed on she felt sick.

In front of her, where people.

Dead people, injured people, people fighting people.

It was different than the demons that attacked her back at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Those where nightmares, creatures she couldn't even comprehend existing. People where flesh and blood. All bones and strong ideals. She watched as a Templar stuck his sword into the back of a mage and her breath caught in her throat, watching him withdraw the red stain blade.

The mage crumpled to the ground, clutching his wound. She couldn't see his eyes, but she was sure that there was fear in them, regret, determination. Then there would be nothing.

"Are you okay?"

The Herald hadn't even realized that she was shaking until Cassandra had put a hand on her shoulder. She bit her lip so hard, she could have drawn blood. Her words where shaky as she replied, "I-I…I've never seen a battle before…I mean…I saw the demons…and the soldiers…but…I've never…"

"The first time is always the hardest…" Her voice was warm and soft, surprising, because since she met Cassandra it's all been harshness and barbs. "Just try to stay calm, and do not be concerned with being afraid. Being afraid keeps you alive, prevents you from doing stupid decisions…"

The Herald nodded her head, the words gone from her mouth.

"I'll be giving you cover the whole time Kid. Me and Bianca got your back…" Varric said, loading a bolt into said crossbow.

Cassandra drew her sword and shield holding them expertly in front of her. Almost automatically, The Herald repeated the Seeker's actions, and watched the tip of her sword as it pointed across the field. "We do not have the time or strength to engage them all, and the conflict won't end until this stupid war is over. We just need to fight our way across…stay close…"

The Herald nodded. The blood rushing to her head, her eyes straining to open as much as they could, her fingers numb as they gripped her sword and shield. She watched Cassandra charge down to the field, and her feet followed.

The sound of swords clashing was deafening now that she was in the thick of it. The heat of fire screaming over her head caused beads of sweat to form on her brow, the static from lightening causing every hair on her body to stand on edge. Her bones ached underneath her armor, her arm protesting from the weight of the shield in front of her. When she saw the first blade come at her, she held her shield up, just like Cassandra had taught her.

It was now, very apparent that the Seeker had gone easy on her.

The impact rattled The Herald's teeth, sending her recoiling back, as she tried to hold the shield steady. Soon she felt impact after impact, unable to do anything but hold her shield up, praying that she wouldn't get struck. That a sword wouldn't spear _her_ like that mage from earlier.

_**What do I do?**_Her thoughts where moving slowly through her mind, unable to keep up with the quickness of the battle. _**I'm scared. Scared. Scared.**_

"_Strike now!"_

It was Glitch's voice, and she almost sent a prayer up in thanks.

Quickly she moved her shield to the side, and struck her sword forward, feeling a great deal of resistance at the tip. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was almost afraid to open them as she just pushed further and further forward.

"_Damn it kid, keep your eyes open!"_

Hesitantly she opened them, and immediately she wished she didn't. Staring back at her where a pair of light brown eyes peaking through a slit in a helmet. They made eye contact, neither one of them able to break it. Fear, pain, terror. She could see it. She could feel it. He didn't want to die. He said something but she couldn't hear it.

"_Pull the sword out…"_

With every ounce of strength she had she withdrew the blade, the sound of the metal cutting his flesh engraving itself into her soul. She held the bloodied blade at her side, watching the man fall to the ground, his metal armor clinking together. He looked like a toy soldier that was carelessly knocked over. Her body couldn't move, as she stared at what she had done.

"I killed him…" She breathed, and she could hear Glitch telling her that she had to move. "I-I…killed a person…"

"_Ice to your left!"_

Her reflexes, which didn't feel like her own, held the shield up. Ice shattered against the metal, raining small crystals to the ground. Cassandra came to her side, pushing her forward, telling her to run. So she ran.

And ran…

And ran…

Till Solas had to grab her arm and pull her to a stop. They were far from the battle now, the sounds of it just faint and soft. Her sword and shield fell from her hands, and she raised them to look at.

She was a mechanic. Her hands were her tools. They where calloused, and rough, covered in burns and cuts. Yet there was a certain pride she had in all those flaws. Every single blister was proof that she created something, she _made_ something.

Now…they killed. Destroyed a life. No matter how much dirt and oil she got on them, she never felt like her hands where dirty. Never felt like they were ugly. Unattractive, rough, battered, but never ugly.

Until now.

"I-I killed someone…" She said finally, the elf, dwarf and Seeker all staring at her. They looked at her with a mixture of pity and curiosity in their eyes. "I…KILLED a Person!" Her hands ran to her head, and she screamed. She screamed so loud that her voice cracked and faded until it was nothing more than air. Hot tears that she refused to let fall earlier came pouring out, dripping onto her cracked, dry lips. Stinging.

"It'll be okay…"Cassandra said, approaching her to put an arm on her shoulder, but The Herald pushed it away.

"NO IT'S NOT! WE DON'T JUST KILL PEOPLE! IT'S WRONG IT'S MURDER!" She said, sobbing, her face contorting in pain. "DEMONS! Demons are one thing, but people! I can't believe this…I can't…" Her face was twisted in pain, grief. She looked at the face of Seeker Pentaghast, but all she saw where the Templar's eyes. Staring, pleading, cursing at her.

"It is war…" Solas told her, "It has happened since the beginning, and it is in war the world will end…this will not be the last death on your hands…far from it…"

The Herald, finally stopped yelling, her lips trembling, "No…we don't…not where I'm from…I mean…we do…but…I, I just never…" Cassandra hesitantly reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, this time though, the Herald didn't bat it away. Instead she turned towards the Seeker, burying her face in a chest full of armor.

"It will be okay…" Cassandra said, awkwardly putting a hand on The Herald's head.

When she had the chance to breath, in between sobs, she asked, "Does it ever get easier?"

"No…but you'll get used to the pain."

\\\\\-/

"So this is the where the assassin's are hiding?" Varric asked, looking at a cave that had a magical ward up to guard the entrance. "Hiding like rats in a cave, typical…"

"I'll do my best to bring down the ward, but when I do, prepare for a fight…you must all be prepared," Solas said, directing this mostly to The Herald who was still reeling from the aftermath of her first real fight.

Glancing at the concerned faces she forced a smile, a habit of hers, "I'll be fine…let's stop this…" She said, and Solas approached, summing as much ice magic as he could to attack the barrier. When he brought it down though, no one came rushing at them. It was suspicious, and The Herald held her shield ready for another fight, but it never came. Instead, she was asked a question.

"So you are the rumored Herald of Andraste?"

The Herald spun around, holding her sword out only to see a tanned elf, holding a blade to Cassandra's neck. "Let her go!"

"I think not, I'm more curious as to how you knew about me, and my plans. Though…I should thank you for the consideration," The elf said, bowing his head in an overly polite manner.

"Consideration?" Varric asked.

"Yes, instead of having to track down The Herald myself, she delivered herself right to my cavestep! Thank you for that!" He took his free hand and ran it through his hair that was so blonde it appeared white.

The Herald gulped, "What do you mean, the contract was on Mother Giselle…" She said and the assassin laughed, pressing the blade closer to Cassandra's neck.

"Why would anyone put a contract on a lowly Mother? No, who ever fed you that information was terribly wrong, just who is your spymaster?" He laughed, and Solas frowned, holding his staff out to strike, "I don't think so, I can't slice her throat far faster than your magic, so let's just lower that…"

"If it's me you want, you can have me, but let Cassandra go!" The Herald yelled, and the Seeker shouted at her for being so dumb.

"Hmm…well what if I offered another idea? Hmm?" The assassin asked.

"I'm listening…"

"People want you dead Herald…so much that they were willing to track me down, and pay me a hefty sum to kill you. I don't get contracts like that, well, on occasion. There were only two I could speak of before, one on the Hero of Fereldan, the other the Champion of Kirk-"

"You're Zevran!" She yelled, covering her mouth quickly. The assassin raised an eyebrow, looking amused. He looked so different from the other games. His hair shorter and sticking out, his arms dark and menacing looking, and he wore half a mask on the side of his face, covering his dalish tattoo.

"So you've heard of me?"

"A little…what are you getting at?"

"You…are an oddity…" He said, looking up as if he was pondering something, "I want to know just what it is about you that people want you dead, so I'm offering you a deal. Let me join your inquisition, and I'll let your friend live." He wore a bright, charming smile as he spoke.

"We already have a spymaster…" Varric insisted, folding his arms.

"I'm not asking to be your advisor…more of an agent…" He said, but The Herald wasn't buying it.

"What do you gain from joining the Inquisition?"

Zevran's smile dropped to his face, "Protection. And perhaps, you can have your ambassador work out something that can free me from the sight of the Crows once and for all…"

Cassandra grunted from her position, "Herald, do not listen to this lying murdering-"

"Deal."

"Great!" Zevran smiled, releasing Cassandra from her grip. "I'll trust that you are a woman of your word, I'll see you in Haven!"

Cassandra hurried towards The Herald's side, "Your worship, can we trust this man! He could kill you in your sleep…"

The Herald shrugged, letting out a heavy breath, feeling as if she had another weight added to her shoulders. "We don't have much of a choice…"

"You can't trust that kind of man, he may be an elf but he is as dishonest and untrustworthy!" Solas said, shaking his head in firm disapproval. The Herald ran a hand through her hair. She looked tired, worn out and frustrated.

"Well it's just like you said Solas, this is war…" She gathered her things and turned to the direction of the Redcliffe Crossroads.

Solas frowned, his eyebrows crinkling together, the wrinkles on his forehead tightening. "That doesn't mean it's right!"

"War doesn't determine who is right, "The Herald snapped, "Only who is left…" With that she continued towards the crossroads, "Come on…we shouldn't keep Mother Giselle waiting."


	6. Chapter 5

**[[A/N:: This is a bit of a shorter chapter than I normally write because I've been SWAMPED at work lately! But reviews and all keep me motivated to keep writing and I appreciate everyone. I tried to make this chapter more lighthearted and stuff, so I hope you guys like it and all. :D Now back to work for meeeeee]]**

"Blankets for the refugees…Ram meat for that one hunter…destroyed the Templar Encampment off the main road…got Horse Master Dennet to give us some mounts…and convinced him to become horse master, score on that one. Found Sir Woolsey-"

"Sir Woolsey?"

The Herald jumped from the sudden voice, the tip of her quill breaking in conjunction. She cursed, examining the tip and tossed it aside into a pile of other broken quills. It had already been a couple of weeks and she still had not gotten used to writing with a feather and pencils, it seemed, were not going to be introduced any time soon.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" The Herald glanced up to see the Commander of the Inquisition Forces staring down at her curiously. She never talked to Cullen that much, considering that he always seemed to be doing a million and ones things, and that she was always doing a billion and one things of her own. There just never seemed a time to just…chat. Shaking her head, she stretched her arms out, letting out a rather large yawn.

"No…" She muttered, "I was just logging all the tasks I've done for the Hinterlands…you know…trying to get us a good reputation and all…"

"You've been doing a good job as well…Josephine seems to think that we are ready to reach out to the Mages for support…" Cullen said, as he walked over to the side of the desk she was working on and peeked curiously over her shoulder. He reached across to grab her notebook when she was greeted by a face full of fur from his armor.

"PBBBTTTFFFLSSTTTT"

Cullen quickly back away, notebook now in hand, "Sorry about that!" He quickly apologized as he watched The Herald ever so ungracefully attempt to dislodge some strands of fur from her mouth.

"Dwount weerrry bout it…" She said, tongue still hanging out. Chuckling the Commander turned to her notebook, his eyebrows furrowing as he flipped through the pages.

"What is this?" He asked, flipping to the other pages in such an amazed daze that The Herald was sure he was about to critique her horrible handwriting.

Scratching the back of her head she asked/stated, "Um…Words? Look writing with a feather is hard!"

"No…it's not that. I've just never seen…words…like this in all my life…It's completely different from any alphabet man, dwarf or elf has ever created…" He squinted his eyes, trying to understand but he didn't even know what letter made what sound. The Herald laughed, reaching for the notebook back.

"It's simple, yet somehow the most complicated language ever where I'm from…I would say about 95% of the people in my country can speak and write English and still use it completely wrong…" She said, looking at the words herself. They did strike her as completely different than the letters they used here, their language seeming to be more like an Arabic/Elfish mixture than anything. "In my land, people speak so many different languages; it's a little hard to keep up…"

He raised an eyebrow again and The Herald felt her heart flutter. Slightly.She had to remind herself that it was just an eyebrow.

"**An eyebrow that seems like sex."** The irrational side of her mind thought. Then the rational side quickly reminded herself that, that didn't even make any sense.

"_Is this what all human women think about? Sex like eyebrows?"_

The Herald's cheeks flushed bright red; as she listened to the Spirit's thoughts enter her own. That had to be the about the hundredth time Glitch had commented on her private internal monologue. It turned out when you were mentally connected to a spirit of battle through your mind, your innermost personal thoughts where no longer quite so personal.

And that got old…fast…

"Will you be quiet?" She hissed at the Jackrabbit that was sitting on the table. The Commander raised an eyebrow at the scene. He had heard that The Heralds rabbit was actually possessed by a spirit from the fade from Solas, but he had a hard time wrapping his head around that fact.

As would, any sane person really.

"Uh…talking to the spirit?" He asked in an uncertain voice, and The Herald's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of scarlet, as she rubbed the back of her neck.

"Uh yeah…so, you're a Templar and stuff, how do you feel about the whole, us siding with The Mages thing?" She asked, turning her conversation quickly to the Inquisition. It seemed that the more personal she tried to get with anyone in her Inner Circle, the odder she appeared. Now she was considering that keeping a certain distance was probably the safer option, lest they think her a complete nut.

"While I'm certain there are going to be abominations amongst them, I think our Templars can handle them…we can't deny that they are powerful…and I have misjudged them from my time in the circle…" He said, his lips tightening as he spoke and drawing into a thin line. His eyes got that distant, glossy look to them, the same kind that The Herald often saw in her father.

She knew what that kind of look meant. Whenever someone would make a comment about the war overseas, or the news rattled off a few names of soldiers, her father would go off. Where? She didn't know. In truth, she didn't want to know. The war over there seemed so distant that it almost didn't seem real, but her father relived it. Every god damn day…and it looked like Cullen was the same.

"Who could blame you, really after what you went through…" She said, and as soon as the words left her mouth she immediately regretted it. Cullen's eyes narrowed, and that easy going friendly posture he took before became rigid and comabatant.

"What are you talking about…how do you know anything about that?" His voice had a sharp demanding tone to it, and The Herald squirmed in her chair.

"I just heard whispers amongst the camp…I'm sorry, I shouldn't speak of things I don't know… "She lied.

But the Herald did know. She remembered clearly how upset Cullen was when she made her choice to save those mages in the Circle. In the game, he was just a minor side character, one she didn't pay much attention to. She thought she would never even see him after that. When she found him held up in some cage, she didn't even think of how he was affected. Even in the second game, he was still just a side character, one of not much importance.

Now he was standing before her, flesh and blood. Breathing, talking. He was as real as her pinky finger.

Trying to compare the two, this Cullen and the one from the games, was almost too much for her.

"Perhaps you shouldn't." His words where cold and concise, leaving no room for argument or apologies. She hung her head low, and closed the notebook, her eyes stinging for no particular reason. It was strange, that after all she had been through, she could remain strong. Even after performing countless tasks and seeing so many horrors.

Some things broke her. Like that Templar, whose eyes she saw every time she looked into her own. She would collapse into herself, there right on the spot. Other things she was able to hold back until she was alone at night.

Yet a few cold words from someone she started to consider a friend was close enough to bring her to tears. It made her feel like a teenager in high school. Crying over something that wasn't that big of a deal. Crying because she literally couldn't help it, even though the rational part of her told her it wasn't that big of a deal.

Standing up, she kept her head down, gathering quickly all the papers, biting her bottom lip to keep it from shaking. It was ironic, that she was running out of her own office, to avoid the person who was originally butting into her business.

She walked straight past Josephine's door, almost at a full sprint. When she was pulled to a screeching halt by a hand that stuck out of it. "Herald, just the person I wante-" The dark skinned woman stopped her sentence when she saw the almighty Herald of Andraste fall straight to the ground, landing hard on her back. Josephine, in an attempt to get the Herald's attention, managed to clothesline her. "Herald! I am so sorry! Are you okay!"

She looked up at the ceiling of the Chantry, her vision blurry from tears that where a mixture of the previous humiliation, current humiliation and seething back pain. **Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry** The rational part of her mind chanted, but her tear ducts decided not to listen as they burned, attempting to push the salty water mixture out.

Quickly though, her vision was blocked by a lump of pure white fur.

"Glitch…what are you doing?" She asked, suddenly confused why the jackrabbit decided now was a perfect time to sit on her face.

"_You don't want them to see you cry. You're the Herald, to many people are around. They need to see you as a rock. This is my solution." _The Jackrabbit's body squirmed in an attempt to get more comfortable.

"This is your solution…Rabbit butt…" She muttered.

"_Jackrabbit butt."_

"Um…Herald…are you okay?" Josephine said, staring at the odd sight on the ground. The Herald held a thumb up, to indicate that she was indeed fine. "Do you wish to stand up…?"

"Nope…this is good…just speak to me right here…like this…" She said and she sprawled her arms out in a spread eagle like fashion. People who were in the Chantry giggled at the sight and Josephine made a face, but shrugged and held out her notepad with the candle at the top. The Herald couldn't help but wonder if people actually did use something like that in the past, or Bioware was just trying to be funny.

"Well…it seems that now is the perfect time for you to go meet with Grand Enchanter Fionna…that is if you feel up to it…" The Ambassador said, and the Herald held out another thumbs up.

"Got it. Meet with mage-y people…will do…" The Herald replied and Josephine stood there for a little while, just staring and waiting for the Herald to stand up. "You might wanna go…I'm gonna be a while…"

/-\\\\

Redcliffe village seemed a lot different than it was in the first game. The layout of the town was completely different and it was a lot more crowded than she remembered it. That though, could have been because of all the mages that were scattered about. She listened to the whispers of concerned voices, and the protest of angry refugees whose homes where lost to the mage/templar war. It seemed that even in this village, which saw a lot of trouble during the blight, was still being hit hard by this war.

"So…no one else is worried over the whole, no one was expecting us thing huh?" Varric piped up and The Herald shrugged her shoulders, half interested.

"Perhaps she just wanted to keep it on the down-low; you know in case of crazed Templar attacks…" She said, and she heard Cassandra snort in frustration. The Seeker did not appreciate whenever the Herald would mention something about the Templars' being crazy, or 'power hungry assholes.' "Right sorry, not crazed, just very, very passionate…"

"I could do without the sarcasm, Herald…" Cassandra said, holding the door open to the Redcliffe Inn. The Herald sighed and muttered an apology as she entered the room, smiling when she saw the Grand Enchanter.

She opened her arms in a gesture of a hug, but it seemed that the other party was not expecting or reciprocating the action. "Herald, I did not expect your presence…" She said, and that caused the Herald to drop her arms immediately.

"What are you talking about…you invited us here…in Val Royeaux, you know after the whole Sister's of The Chantry damned my soul for all eternity, kind of thing…" She said, her eyebrow rising higher and higher with each word.

"You told a Revered Mother to 'Fuck off'…" Cassandra added, and then in an even more agitated voice, added, "And then told her that they needed to 'Chill the Fuck out.'"

The Herald looked back at Cassandra, "Thank you for reminding everyone here of my awesome diplomatic skills Cassandra…" She turned back to the Grand Enchanter, still suspicious of what was going on. Events like this, in almost every story, game, movie or whatever, was typically a prelude to something going wrong. "Well if you're still up for negotiating an alliance, I'm here to chat…"

Fiona had then averted her eyes almost shamefully, "If I had that ability to I would…but I am no longer in charge here…you would have to ask our Master for permission…but he is currently out…"

The Herald felt her heart drop into her stomach, and she exchanged worried looks with her companions. They were all wondering the same thing. Why would people, who were in a desperate attempt to gain their freedom, suddenly have a 'Master'. "So who is this Master, you speak of?" Cassandra asked, and Fiona quickly explained that he was out at the moment. Then as if on cue, a voice spoke from behind them;

"Ah no longer dear Fiona, I am here…" He walked proudly through the small inn, everyone clearing a way for him to pass by. He paid no attention to anyone it seemed, his eyes focused seemed focused on The Herald. Keeping her face as calm as possible, she tried to hide the icy chill that was running up her spine and her shaky hands. "My name is Alexius…you must be the fabled Herald of Andraste…"

In a desperate attempt to remain calm, the young girl forced a smile, "I've been called that a few times…" She reached out and shook his hands, but that foreboding feeling never slipped away. She observed his clothes, thinking that they looked too much like a court Jester's for her like, but knowing they must mean he is someone important.

"You're a Tevinter Magister…" Cassandra said, her voice not hiding the shock at all.

"**Well, that explains the clothes**," The Herald thought as she moved to sit across from the man. Alexius held himself with a certain amount of pride that never did anyone good. His son, hovered over his shoulder, and he was exchanging worried looks between the two, but he was so sickly and pale looking The Herald thought she was misinterpreting it.

"Let's get down to business…you need my Mages…what would I get in return…" He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Well, you would help us close the giant hole in the sky that is spitting out demons everywhere!" The Herald said, that same nervous smile plastered on her face. Alexius though, didn't seem to amuse, "And I thought that was the obvious one…well…we have connections with quite a few nobles around here…you…you know…being a Tevinter, and a Magister…in Fereldan…those could probably come in handy a bit…"

The Magister smiled, "I would like for you to come formally discuss this with me…if you would-" He stopped talking when he watched his son stumble, practically falling onto the Herald. He stood up with worry and started to say some things about another time, but The Herald was preoccupied. Mainly by the piece of paper, said son dropped in her lap.

When the two and their guards left the inn, Varric couldn't help but add, "Oh yeah…that's a trap…"

Solas frowned, crossing his arms, "We can't just leave the mages in the hands of this man! Even if it is a trap…"

The tall seeker looked down at the elf, crossing her arms, "It is not too late to seek the Templars help, surely some will see reason…"

Frowning, The Herald unfolded the piece of paper in her hand, and if it was possible, her frown would have deepened. "Oh yeah…this is totally a trap…"


	7. Chapter 6

**((A/N:: Well, it turns out writing out major plot events are freaking hard. It's a lot to describe, and I didn't want to go into too much detail of things we all have already explored. So this is my lazy mans route on major plot events…yeah…I such at this…Remember to Review please :3 love you all, and thank you to everyone who does review. I do read them! I just never know how to respond haha))**

"I can't support endangering your life like this!" Cullen shouted across the small war room. In a frustrated attempt to make the ex-templar Knight Captain see reason, The Herald angrily gestured with her arms at the man.

"Oh so, NOW that's a big deal?" She asked, feeling like they had been over this conversation a hundred times. They had made the plan. Dorian, the mage they met due to the ominous note she recieved, kindly offering his support to bring down his now deranged ex-master. Running an impatient hand through her hair, she pulled it back into a ponytail, which it was now long enough to do. A testament to how long it had been since she arrived "Cullen, this discussion is over…"

The Commander looked at her, his lips forming that same tight line they always did when he was angry or upset. It was just the two of them in the room at this point, both Leliana and Josephine tired of arguing with the man. Sitting on top of the war table, she fiddled with one of the figurines, turning it over and over again in her fingers; the sound of the Commander's pacing footsteps filling the awkward silence.

"But Herald-"

She raised a hand to stop him from talking, and turned to look at the man, "Cullen, look, I know you want to go to the Templars…they mean a lot to you and all that, but you can't seriously just expect us turn away from this and ignore it!?" She asked, and the man sighed, slumping his shoulders. He strode over to the side of the table where she was sitting and leaned against it. Her heart beat quickened, slightly.

Though The Herald would never admit to that.

He looked at her through the corner of his eye, the scar on his lip pulling with his frown. "Right I know…I know…" He sighed, and turned his full body towards her, and he forced himself to smile. It was obvious, but genuine at the same time. He probably didn't think it was, but the smile did even reach his eyes. Slightly. "You've changed since we've met…seems like your finally stepping into your place."

At that The Herald laughed, "Don't…think too highly of me just yet…we are all fighting for our own reasons…mine is to go home…" She said, and slid of the table, heading towards the door. As she walked she felt a hand grab her arm, but she didn't turn around.

"Don't sell yourself so short Herald…" He told her, releasing her when he was done talking. Nodding her head slightly, she quickly hurried out of the room, her thoughts buzzing. She closed the door to the war room, and tried to take in the sight of the Chantry. She had become accustomed to this place. Its sounds, feelings, the way it seemed to breathe life back into people. Sometimes she even caught herself calling it home. Then lecture herself for being so stupid.

Taking a few steps forward she headed towards Haven, pushing the towering doors of the Chantry open. The familiar biting cold, the smell of burning wood, and conflicting metals greeted her all to familiarly. As she gazed upon what where now recognizable faces, she began to feel a sense of urgent fear.

Had she really become so used to this strange place? No..that wasn't it…not quite used to it. There were still the occasional oddities that threw her for a loop, and the armor still hurt her. She still couldn't handle mutton, way to rough on her stomach, and her clothes itched something was also the constant ache she felt for home. What she wouldn't give for the feeling of tools in her hand instead of a sword, for the sound of cars screeching to a halt in uptown Manhattan traffic. To see the dazzling lights of a New York City skyline for a change instead of the endless sea of stars she saw every night.

Yes, that was what she truly wanted, but she couldn't deny to herself that even she had become distracted. So busy running around and performing tasks for The Inquisiton. So overwhelmed with the awe-struck gazes and respect complete strangers showed her. Too busy…living. Looking down at the ground, she tightened her fist, trying to push the thoughts away, trying to focus on the mission ahead.

Then she stopped, realizing that was exactly what she was worried about. She couldn't ignore these doubts. Pushing them aside would only make it worse. Taking a deep breath The Herald knew that, at least for her, the biggest threat wasn't the demon-spitting hole in the sky. She was losing herself here. Completely. In a world so much unlike her own.

And she was losing the battle.

\\\\-/

" .Fuck…do you mean…we fucking traveled through TIME!" The Herald's voice could be heard echoing against the empty walls of the dungeon they were stuck in. Two guards lay dead at her feet, face down in the water that came up to their knees. Rubbing her temples, she looked at the mage who was examining his surroundings with wide-eyed curiosity. "Okay explain it again…"

Dorian, stood up straight, holding his staff at hip level, "It seemed Alexius has used some sort of time magic…and sent us…forward in time…probably as a last resort since his plan to murder you didn't go so well…"He said matter-of-factly. Just earlier today, on the walk to Redcliffe, she was thinking about what a pleasant change of company Dorian was. Now she was really wishing she had listened to Cullen.

"Yeah, it seems a lot of peoples plans to murder me, don't go so well. Okay, then we need to find a way back to the present…when ever that is…" She said, searching one of the bodies, an act she had regretfully become accustomed to, for some keys of sort. Picking up what she was searching for, along with some extra gold, she headed towards the only exit the room offered. "Great…Great…not only am I sent to a different world, in that world I'm sent to different worlds!" She muttered, climbing the stairs as quietly as she could, afraid of a possible ambush.

"In reality, we are still in the same world just forward-" The Herald stopped and turned to glare at Dorian, who coughed into his hand, "Ah right, um we'll save the details for when we are currently out of danger…"

"Good plan…" She said, and looked around. The castle seemed to be in ruins, Red Lyrium sprouting from the walls and ground. The stuff was everywhere, and the heat and energy it put off could be felt even standing feet away from it. They opened random doors, seeing if they led anywhere, preparing for a fight each time. All they found where more broken chairs, and paintings. Crumbling walls and stuck doors.

"This is getting us no where…" Dorian said, with a sigh, and then stopped talking, looking towards a flight of stairs that lead further down into the castle. "Do you hear that?" Looking up The Herald raised an eyebrow. "I think something's down here…"

"Oh yes, probably just more Venatori trying to kill us! I have a great idea, I'll go make cupcakes in the super creepy dark kitchen and we can bring them down to them!"

"Just suck it up and come on!" Dorian said and The Herald sighed and hurried after him. She was not about to risk being separated from Dorian, considering the fact that the last time they engaged in combat, she couldn't hear Glitch at all. It seemed that, for now, she was relying solely on her training.

And she was so fucked with just that.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs they saw that they were in a dungeon of sorts. They approached slow, weapons drawn and ready for…whatever…they might encounter. They were about to call it a waste, when they heard a voice. "Maker…is that really you?"

Turning her head, The Herald let out a slight cry, looking at Cassandra who was leaning against the wall. She looked sick, her eyes glowing an eerie red, shards of lyrium growing out of her body. Covering her mouth, The Herald slowly approached her, eyes shaking and her lips feeling numb, "Cassandra…Cassandra what happened?"

"No…this can't be happening…I watched you die…" The pain in her voice when she talked overpowered it.

The Herald wanted to reach out and take her hand, to comfort her, like a mother would a child, but she was too afraid. How messed up was that, to afraid to even touch her. "No I'm alive…we just went…forward in time…hard to believe…but stranger things have happened to us right?" She was joking. Totally in appropriate. But it seemed that the Herald's default to awkward humor when nervous comforted the imprisoned woman.

"Cassandra please, we need to know what happened…" Dorian said, and the clouded look returned to her eyes.

"The Elder One…whom Alexius spoke of…He ravaged the land…destroyed everything…so many people dead…suffering...we fought for as long as we could…" She said, and the Herald felt a familiar emotion boiling up inside of her. Fear.

"Is Alexius still here?" She asked, and Cassandra weakly nodded her head. "He's dead. I'll kill him!"

Dorian, who was unlocking the cage to let Cassandra out, grabbed The Herald's shoulder, shaking it slightly. Like he was hoping that he would shake reason into her as well. "Don't be so hasty…if Cassandra is here…there are surely others…and we should do our best to seek them out first…if you want to approach Alexius we'll need all the help we can get…"

Cassandra stepped out, that sickly, Lyrium obsessed look in her eye, but she seemed slightly more alive. "Grand Echanter Fiona…and Varric are still here…they can help us…perhaps…" Gripping her sword, The Herald nodded and started walking towards the staircase.

Fear, anger, guilt. So many emotions rushing through The Herald's mind that she could hardly see straight. This…this is what it looked like if she failed. If SHE was gone. This wasn't supposed to be real, but it felt real.

Millions of deaths on her shoulders. Her friends…everyone…dead…suffering…or worse. How could there even be a worse, she didn't know, but she was sure there was. This was the future that was weighing on her now. This, even if it wasn't her world, even if she wasn't supposed to be here…it was her burden to carry.

To be the factor, the variable, on whether or not they lived or fell into this dark future, she wanted to think it was unfair. To put so much, on one person, just hoping that they didn't break from it, seemed cruel. The weight of it all started to push down on her harder, crushing her.

But she would worry about that another day…

\\\\-/

"_The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want."_

When they found Varric, he didn't look much better than Cassandra. The Red Lyrium he so desperately hated now infused into his being. It was a cruel twist of fate, irony at its best. When they asked what happened, he told them the same story, of how the Elder One took over everything. Destroying the land like a disease, slaughtering the people like they were nothing. Releasing him from the cage, The Herald tried to maintain her composure, the dark world overwhelming her. She could feel her hands shaking, but did her best to calm them. She needed to steel her nerves. She simply didn't have the time to fear.

"_He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters."_

The Grand Enchanter was too far gone to follow them. She was part of the Lyrium now, growing out of it, instead of it out of her. Her eyes looked dead, though her lips spoke, and the spun the same tale of failure and horror. She told them of their Spymaster, that she was somewhere still in the 's name falling off her broken lips with the last bit of hope the woman could afford. Then she spoke of the god, the new god, who they couldn't stop. She begged them to fix this. To stop this from ever happening, with the last ounce of hope she could give. They left her there. Rotting, diseased, dying in the cell. The memory burned into The Herald's mind.

"_He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness For His name's sake."_

They fought for what seemed like hours. The Herald let out screams of pain when the sword hit its mark, crashing into her armor. Without Glitch to guide her, her reflexes where dwarfed, and she couldn't evade like she was used to. It hurt. Each impact rattling her resolve along with her body. Exchanging blow for blow, she fought her way through. Blood dripped from her temple, pooling on her lips. The metallic taste mixing with the salt of sweat and tears. So many times she wanted to throw her sword down and give up, exhausted. But still she fought.

"_Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me."_

She heard Leliana before they saw her. Her screams echoing throughout the halls of the castle. Terrible, terrible screams. When they charged the room, they distracted the guards long enough for the woman tied up to kill him. The Herald supposed that was supposed to be Leliana. The woman they where unchaining looked like Leliana, was dressed like her, but she didn't feel like her. No warmth or compassion. No fire or spirit. She was a husk, a shell of what once was. She was the judgment. The arbitrator of The Herald's failure.

"_Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me."_

While they tried to find Alexius, Leliana did not speak of what happened. She only reminded The Herald the price of if she should fail. The words she spoke where harsh, perhaps uncalled for. There were moments when she reminded the Herald of her selfish desire to abandon them and go home. Of how childish she would act at times. How when she died, the people's hope did as well, and shortly after their faith. Perhaps, the husk knew what she was doing, filling the Herald with so much guilt and blame. Perhaps that was her plan. To ignite that spark, that fight, which was growing inside of the young girl, with burden instead of praise. To strike flint against stone, instead of lighting a match.

"_You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies."_

How long did they search for the door. More time had passed. How she cursed time, and how she cursed this door. When they found it, she cursed it some more. Locked, by magic. She was losing faith. Knowing the device Alexius used to send them to this horrid future was right on the other side of this stone, yet she couldn't reach it. It was teasing. Taunting. Again, she just wanted to give up. Just lie down and let the Venatori find her. So instead, she started to search.

"_You have anointed my head with oil; My cup overflows."_

Back in New York, she couldn't remember the last time she went to church. Her father always begged her to go. He said it would be good for her. When he came back from the war, he went all the time. He said he felt safe there, but she never understood that. She always just felt guilty at church, for everything she did wrong, so she never went. There was always that one prayer, or was it a psalm, that he would say before bed. He used it to fight his invisible enemies he told her. She thought it was silly. She wasn't even sure if there was a God, so how could praying to some invisible being in the sky be so powerful. Strong enough to kill the memories. Right now, as yet another man fell to her blade; it was all she could think of.

"_Surely goodness and loving kindness will follow me all the days of my life."_

They found them. The shards that would open the door. This was it.

"_And I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever."_

The Herald, bit her lip, her hands shaking as she placed the final shard into the door. She was frightened, terribly, on what was on the other side, though she knew it was just a man. Never before, did she think a person could inflict such fear. She watched the door glow, then unlock, but she couldn't push it open. Fear was a powerful thing, but it was a feeling she couldn't afford to acknowledge.

"_Amen."_

She pushed the door open.

\\\\-/

"It's over Alexius."

The Herald stood before the Magister, who was now on his knees. She was back. It was no longer that dark, haunting future, but instead the sun shone too brightly through the windows. It was almost blinding yet the shadow still hung over The Herald, and perhaps Dorian too. Maybe even more so him, since that was his dearest friend whom the Inquisition Soldier's now carried away.

After a few moments to tend to her injuries, the Herald finally was composed enough to talk. "We…can't let that happen…" It was the first thing she said, and it was a whisper. Only Dorian could here, and he nodded his head, for there was nothing else he could say. They went to go discuss the negotiations, but, where then interrupted by a sudden appearance of someone she did not imagine seeing.

"So this is how you repay our kindness…by forcing people out of their homes?"

The Grand Enchanter turned her eyes wide as the King of Fereldan approached. He didn't look like the Alistair she knew from Origins. He was thinner, like he lost a lot of muscle from when he was young. Perhaps it was just years of ruling finally taking a toll on him, or he just had gotten older. Still, the sight of him, whom she had spent hours romancing, and adventuring with, gave her a small comfort.

"I want you and your people, out of Fereldan!" He yelled, and The Herald, caught up in her nostalgic daydreaming was snapped back to sense. She hurried towards the side of the Grand Enchanter.

"Wait! Alistair!" She said, and she paused slightly, "I…uhh…mean King Alistair…it is King right?" The man before her crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "I'll take care of the mages…The Inquisition will claim them as allies…and be responsible for all their actions…"

She could hear Cassandra comment from the back, "ALL their actions?"

"Yes..ALL."

Alistair looked from the Grand Enchanter, to The Herald and back again, "It'll be a better offer than you'll get from me…" He said, and Fiona looked panicked, as she realized that she had no choice but to accept. It wasn't quite the alliance everyone planned for, but it was still an alliance made. His sight then returned to The Herald, who he studied with an intense stare. "You remind me of someone…"

Her cheeks flushed and she averted her eyes, "O-oh really…and who is that Your Highness…"

"My wife…always so eager to go and help people, throwing her hat in with the hope that the good in people will prevail…" He said, shaking his head. He talked like he was disappointed but the small smile on his face argued otherwise. With few parting words, he turned on his heel and left Redcliffe castle, letting the Herald breathe a sigh of relief for the first time.

Her mind still swam with horrors of what she saw, and she was certain they would revisit her in her dreams, but for now, she was content with celebrating this small victory. One step closer to sealing the breach, meant one step closer to going home. They walked towards the castle exit, everyone ready to go home for the day, when Dorian pulled her aside.

"If you don't mind me asking…when we were in the future…you where saying…a poem was it?" he asked.

"Not a poem…it's a psalm…or prayer…that my dad would say all the time. It's from the religion in my land…" She really didn't feel like launching into an explanation on what Christianity was.

"I just have one question…" He smoothed his hair down, and adjusted his grip on his staff. "At the end you said a word…what was it Amen? It sounded important…like a closing statement almost. What does that mean?"

The Herald stopped for a second, running her tongue over her dry lips, "So Be it."


	8. Chapter 7

**[A/N: So I am so terribly sorry about the lack of updates. Normally I would do these on my duty days (military lingo for a 24 hour work shift) but work has been completely swamping me to the point that I haven't had much to do other than work and sleep. But on a brighter note, I'm going back to the States for a little well deserved (in my opinion) Leave. I wrote some chapter's on the 15 hour plane ride I took, but I was also sleep deprived as all hell, so it'll take me some time to edit and post them. Anywho, this is all besides the point, please Rate, fav, follow all that good stuff! 3 You guys are the best!]**

"THAT'S IT!"

Everyone was standing at the entrance of the Chantry, ready to greet their newest comrade to their rag-tag group and welcome their friends back. A young, short hair elf followed behind the normal group of companions, a dissatisfied look on her face. The Herald, who came pushing past everyone with out even a single hello had a look of rage, as she headed straight towards the kitchens.

The Advisor's jaw dropped as they watched the young girl storm past them, and turned towards the others for some sort of explanation. They had seen the Herald, upset before and more than a few times angry. This time though she was furious to the point of silence. Cassandra sighed, "She got into a disagreement with Sera on the way back...it wasn't pleasant..."

The female elf snorted through her nose, and curled her lip, "Ain't my fault that she's all up tight about shite. All I said was that she's dumb as a rock cause she can't read, I know tons of people who can't read! Ain't like I was judgin' and all, just thought that since she's some fancy-pants prophet and shite, she could as least fucking read ya know?" Josephine flinched, knowing that the cultural difference between here and where ever the Herald was from, was a sore subject. The others shook their heads, and Sera crossed her arms, "What, not my fault she's got such a bad temper now is it?"

"Where is the Herald going to now?" Leilana asked, and everyone shrugged their shoulders.

"I do not know..." Solas said, letting out a exhausted sigh, "She yelled something about grilling a cheese and headed towards the kitchen..." Leliana nodded her head and turned on her heel to head after her, but felt a tug on her clothes.

"Perhaps...I should go talk to her..." Varric offered, and the spymaster looked almost insulted, "Let's be honest...outside of Josephine...non of you are really good at comforting people..."

"I don't know what you are talking about, I'm excellent at comforting people!" Leliana said, and a chuckle escaped Josephine's lips. The red head turned and glared "What is that supposed to mean..."

Coughing awkwardly into her hand, the Ambassador straightened herself up, "I...just think Varric is right...Cassandra is to brash, Solas is a bit, um, methodical in his speech, Cullen is as awkward as one can get when talking to anyone about anything outside of battle tactics...and you are the left hand of the divine, compassion and warmth aren't exactly what you are known for..." Josephine said turning to Varric, "I'll go with you, do not worry we will calm The Herald down..."

The two hurried off to the kitchen and weren't quite sure what to think of the sight when they entered. The Herald, still in full armor, with sword strapped to her hip was hovering over a fire with a frying pant that looked like it had to slices of bread on it. She had taken an extreme amount of lard to use as grease for the pan and was watching the bread cook intensely.

She looked tired, dark circles hanging low under her eyes. Her hair, was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and scratches and bruises doted her face. The way her shoulders hunched hinted that the armor was a strain on her back, and her head was hanging low, as if to exhausted to even hold it up. Worn out, fatigued. The bright eyed, terrified girl who first appeared in the inquisition was slowly disappearing. Replaced by a unflinching leader who was crumbling slowly from the pressure.

They weren't to sure how to feel about that.

"So what exactly are you making?" Varric asked, peaking into the dish curiously.

"Grilled Cheese." She stated, her tone insisting that she was still angry. The dwarf watch her flip the bread, and cocked his head to the side. It's not like cooking a piece of cheese on some bread was all that uncommon but the way she was going about it was quite curious. Usually it was baked, and not fried over a fire.

"Is it a dish from your homeland?" Josephine asked, her bright smile on her face. At that The Herald let out a heavy sigh.

"Yeah...my dad would make me this every Sunday, when we would watch the games together..." She took the pan off of the fire and placed it on the counter. She cut it up into triangles, an act that seemed odd to the kitchen helpers who watched her. Taking a bite of it, her face noticeably relaxed. "God damn, I'm in a completely different world and I'm still comfort eating..."

"Hey kid, mind if I have a bite?" Varric asked, and The Herald shrugged her shoulders as she leaned her hips against the counter. The small dwarf took one of the smaller pieces and handed another one to the Ambassador. Both where surprised by how greasy it felt in their hands, and Josephine was hesitant as she took a bite out of it. Her eyes though instantly lit up, and she looked a the Herald excitedly.

"This is delicious!" She said, "Is that meat in here?"

"Bacon." The Herald replied, smiling slightly as she finished her own slice.

The dwarf had finished his piece, and he didn't quite look satisfied with the small amount he ate, "Um...do you think you could possibly make a little more?" The Herald smile grew across her face as she looked at him, and then at the massive cheese wheel that was sitting by her side.

"I could do that..."

\\\\\\\-/

"Maker's breath what is taking them so long..." Leliana groaned as she looked at the now setting sun. Everyone was sitting outside the chantry, waiting for The Herald to come out and talk to them about the recent missions she went on. She had been gone for a week, and the only thing that happened was that a Qunari and his mercenary company appeared in their camp, a Grey Warden showed up outside their forge saying he was part of the group now, and a Orlesian First Enchanter was now taking up residency in the chantry. All the Spymaster wanted was a brief explanation on how this all came to be.

Was that to much to ask?

"That's it, I'm going to check on them!" Cullen said, rising to his feet, and Sera scrunched her face together.

"What if she's not calmed down yet?" She asked and The Commander shrugged his shoulders.

"We are in the process of planning the final assault on the breach, we don't have time to just be sitting here and waiting..." He muttered, and Leliana nodded her head in concurrence, the two of them making their way to the kitchen. Taking a moment to ready themselves they threw the door open, preparing themselves for the full force of The Herald's wrath.

Instead their jaws fell slightly open,for the second time that day, as they stared at the sight before them. Iron Bull, his whole company, Josephine, Varric, the assassin Zevran and Blackwall, where all sitting on the kitchen floor laughing and eating some weird sandwich, while The Herald was bent over the fire, giggling and cooking.

"What in the Maker's name is this?" Leliana asked, her eyes scanning the room as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Josephine looked up at the two Advisers and smiled, handing them a sandwich that was sitting on a plate.

"The Herald calls it a grilled cheese, she said it's a popular food where she is from! Try it!" She said holding the plate up. To angry to even reach for a sandwich, the Nightingale stood their trying to calm herself down. She was trying to wrap her mind around the fact that instead of discussing the attack, they where here. Sitting on a dirty kitchen floor, telling inappropriate jokes and eating 'grilled cheeses'.

The Commander though, had no trouble reaching for one himself, and taking a bite.

"It's delicious! I didn't think you could cook Herald!" He stated, and the woman bent over the fire and laughed.

"It was just me and my dad for most of my life, you kind of pick that kind of stuff up..." She said, producing another sandwich from the frying pan, and this time personally offering it to Leliana. She smiled up at the redhead, who glared back down at her in response. Pushing the plate a little closer to her, The Herald raised her eyebrows, and after a few moments of awkward silence, Leliana finally took the sandwich.

She bit into it, swallowing one bite, and then stood their in silence. Everyone's raucous laughter died down as they turned to watch her reaction, and as every moment passed the smile started to drop from The Herald's face. Finally, Leliana turned on her heel, and said over her shoulder;

"Just...come to the War Room when you're ready..." She said taking another bite of the sandwich as she left. The kitchen was then filled with warm laughter once again, and The Herald smiled again to herself. She poked her head outside of the door, shouting 'Your Welcome' after the redhead, who stormed into the War Room.

\\\\\\\-/

"_Are you ready for this?"_ The Herald looked down at the small creature that was curled up on her lap. She didn't know what time it was, but it was pretty late, since most of the fire's where out and besides guards no one was wandering the small village. The Herald sat on the stone wall, staring up at the swirling breach in the sky, that illuminated the night in place of the moon.

She could feel it, the way it was twisting and turning against itself. The Mark on her hand, a dull knife pushing into her skin, would throb in sync with the it's heartbeat. Rhythmic, pulsing, living. Tomorrow they would take all the mages and soldier's they could bring and march up towards the remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It would be the end of her time he. The end of this war, of the fighting. She could start to focus on finding a way home.

Through all the trials she went through to get this to moment, The Herald could not have expected it to feel so bittersweet. "I think I am..." She told Glitch, petting it's small body. "I mean...I'll have stopped the Breach...my job is done...I won't be needed here anymore..."

"Perhaps you will be."

Jumping at the surprise, The Herald started to wonder why so many people liked to sneak up on her. She turned to look at the Assassin who had spared her life not to long ago, who strode confidently towards her. He sat down on the wall by her side, and looked up at the Breach along with her. "Do you have the pre-battle jitters?"

She snorted, pushing her hair back out of her face, "That's one way of putting it. I don't know how people get used to this kind of life. Constant fighting, endless war, always a baddie on the horizon."

The elf smiled at her, "It grows on you surprisingly, but, I do look forward to the day when I can just sit in a tavern and drink my self into a stupor surrounded by beautiful men and women." The Herald chuckled, and Zevran snapped his fingers, "Ah, there is the illusive smile, I was thinking you forgot how to do that."

Turning her gaze back towards the breach, the smile turned bitter, "Yeah so was I."

A silence passed between them. Awkward, filled with tension of too many things to say. After a few minutes passed Zevran finally said; "You know...you remind me a lot of the Hero of Fereldan..."

That roused another chuckle from The Herald, "You aren't the first to tell me that...but I think you are wrong...The Hero of Fereldan was kind and just...she knew the right choice all the time and didn't make half as many mistakes as I have..." She said, and Zevran reached over and pushed some of the hair from her face. Recently she found herself wishing she had the dialogue options. That she was as emotional detached from everything as she was when it was just a game. It seemed that her emotions where bent on getting her in trouble.

"You obviously didn't know the Hero of Fereldan that well...she was, always deflecting the hard times with humor, and she stumbled and made mistakes, and you could see the guilt of bad decisions weigh on her. You do the same thing," He said with a smile, "You're eyes...are very expressive, just like hers were..." He seemed sad as he spoke of the woman, "And she succeeded, and got the fairy tale ending every girl could dream of, just as you will?"

"Oh come on now, I know that elves and dragons are real, but I hardly doubt fairy tales are. That's stretching it." The Herald groaned as she leaned back on her hands, her eyes intense. "But thank you..."

Zevran smiled, "Thank you? All I can offer are some kind words, pretty sure that you being the Herald of Andraste, you aren't short of praise."

"It's not that..." Her hand's ran along the length of Glitch's antlers, "People...People are always telling me that I can do it...that I can save everyone, that I'm the chosen one. They all believe in me, The Herald of Andraste...but...you believe in me. A scared girl, whose in way over her head, and is just trying not to screw up to badly..."

The man smiled at her, "Well, if that is all you need to hear, I'll be sure to tell you more often. You're gonna make it out of this Little Feather...you're going to be alright..."

The girl smiled, though her heart felt hollow. So much fear, and doubt. To many things that could go wrong ran through her mind like a race. When she was finally getting past one, another would lap her. She felt as if the breach was staring at her, taunting her. It reminded her that she was a part of this place now, and it was a part of her. Though as the night dragged on, the worrying would only intensify and suffocate her.

So she prayed, to whatever God was actually out there, the assassin was right.

That she was going to be alright.

\\\\\\\\\\\-/

She stood below the Breach, it's energy pouring into her, and pulling itself out. It electrified her, making every hair on her body stand on edge. Sparks jumped from her soul, out of her hand into the magic in the sky. She couldn't feel the wind, or the air, nor the earth beneath her feet. Gazing up at the hole in the sky, the only thing she felt was peace, chaos. Fear and serenity. Her mind and body at such odd contradictions with itself, that she hardly noticed the pain in her hand at all.

Solas walked up to her side, his eyes gazing up at the breach with such wonder, he seemed almost sad to see it go. After a few seconds pause he asked The Herald, "The mages are ready...are you?"

"Yes...I think so..." She said, gulping. Her stomach was performing flips, as she nervously started to approach the breach. Cassandra stood by her side, as if to remind her that she wasn't staring down this beast alone. Solas, shouted commands to the mages, and the Herald took a few more steps forward.

This was it. The chance to end it all.

She raised her hand, focusing her will at the mark in her hand. She thought of nothing but the mark on her hand, and sealing the hole. As she stood their, she was bombarded with magic. The will of every mage who stood behind her, focusing into her body, a catalyst for the mark. It overwhelmed her, her skin feeling as if it was on fire. Yet with gritted teeth, she stood fast, and focused her will back into the mark.

When It connected to the breach, the pain was so intense that it was numbing. It felt as if her soul was being ripped to shreds and stitched back together a hundred times per second. She wanted to scream, but she had no voice. She wanted to cry, but she had no sorrow. Pain and will ecompassed her being. The green static jumping from her skin towards the hole in the sky.

Then the sky collapsed in on itself, and a bright light encompassed her.

"_Daddy?" There she was, six years old, waking up for school one morning to see her father standing there, his head in his hands. "Daddy where is mommy? She was supposed to help me with my math problems this morning." There was the look on her father's face. The heartbreak, the anguish, the wonder of if he could of done something different._

"_Mommy's not here...she...left..."_

_Left meant leaving. Leaving meant running. Running away from what though. Left, leaving, gone. Left, leaving, gone. She couldn't understand, didn't want to understand._

_What kind of mother just leaves. Quits. Gives up. What kind of mother runs away._

_And then, there she was, fifteen years old, at her step mother's house. She sat at the kitchen, watching her father kiss his new wife's cheek, and then turned towards her. That sad smile, the regret, the hope. "No goodbye kiss Kiddo?"_

"_You're leaving." How broken those words sounded. They echoed so loudly in her head._

"_Not forever."_

"_You're still leaving..."That anger. The feeling that life wasn't fair, that it wasn't supposed to be that hard. He stood there in front of her looking clean and crisp. His shoulders proudly back, his head held high. Uniform sharp and fitting. He looked like a hero. Her hero._

"_Not forever...I'm doing this for you...you must know that...it's all for you."_

"_No! If you where doing it for me, you wouldn't leave! You would stay home!" it seemed so clear in her mind. Hero's don't leave. They don't just walk away. Hero's stay and protect. Though as she watched him walk towards the black car sitting at the edge of their drive way, she wondered._

_How many Hero's actually die at home_

It felt like weeks, years, centuries before she regained her senses. She stood upon the remains of men who had innocently fallen, when the rush of sound returned. Cheers, applause, shouts of joy filled her ears. Happiness. The stabbing pain in her hand wasn't gone, and the magic sparked around her whole body.

"You did it! You sealed the breach! Maker's breath you actually did it!" Cassandra cried, a smile crossing her normally stony face. When the realization of what she just said sunk in the Herald gazed up at the sky. It was scarred, stitched together from when it was torn apart. Yet it was healing, and the demon's and darkness no longer fell from the sky.

"I did it?" she didn't know why she had to ask.

"It appears you did." Solas said, smiling as he approached the woman, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "The danger is over..."

With that The Mechanic, The Prisoner, The Herald of Andraste; let out a sigh of relief and fell to her knees tired. "It's over...thank god...it's over..." She gazed up at the faces full of reverence that stared down at her. In their eyes she saw hope. Hope that she inspired, that she grew and cultivated. Some dropped to their knees in front of her, but the only thing on the Herald's mind at that moment was; "I could really use a beer."


End file.
